A/N: My poor boys. I have no idea how this happened. I am so mean, but take heart. Things will improve quickly after this.
Chapter 6
The policeman emerged from his car, ordering everyone to freeze right where they were, muttering to himself about the kids these days getting out of hand. It still took a few seconds for the guy with the kids hanging off him to stop squirming, but his persistent anchors hung on doggedly. The policeman approached them warily and asked what was going on, completely missing the two boys crumpled against the car. Kurt glanced toward the suddenly quiet house, risking another stab of pain behind his eyes and the world growing faint again, to see Rachel and a few others standing there on the porch, their faces aghast at what had happened under the yellow porch light.
"These Neanderthals crashed our party and were beatin' on my friends…the one Nick's got on the ground and this one. They were trying to kill them, officer. We were trying to stop them." Mercedes said, visibly trying to calm down, though she would have liked to kick these guy's marbles so hard they could taste them, for what they'd done to…
It was only then that she saw Blaine slumped unconscious on the ground, and Kurt huddled beside him, obviously injured. "Oh my god! Kurt, Blaine! They're hurt! Why haven't you called an ambulance yet, you meathead! " Mercedes dropped the arm she still had clutched in a death grip and ran to Kurt and Blaine. She saw the dark shadows of blood on both their faces, her vision now adjusted to the dark, and moaned in sympathy, feeling totally helpless to do anything for them.
The policeman came over and hunkered down beside them, straining to see them in the dim shadow of the car and felt for his flashlight. "Are you guys hurt? Do you need medical attention? Can you stand up so I can see you?" He grabbed Kurt's arm, probably to help him stand up, and jumped back again, startled by his screech of pain. Kurt nearly fainted in agony, but managed to emit in a high pitched tight voice, gritting through his teeth. "Broken, broken, broken! Please don't touch me!" He blinked several times, wondering why he couldn't see anyone very clearly, but didn't want to let go of his arm long enough to swipe his eyes. The policeman turned on his flashlight and quickly scanned the two boys, cursing in dismay. He used his shoulder radio to call for an ambulance and back up.
Nick got off Azimo's back and came closer, addressing the police officer directly. "I was about to take my friends home, when these two attacked us. They pushed me out of the way and hit Blaine first, that one hitting him repeatedly in the abdomen, while the other restrained him and then they attacked Kurt. I didn't see all of what exactly they did, but I know Azimo kicked him at least once in the head. Jeff and I tried to stop them, and distracted them. That one tried to escape when your car approached and Mercedes, Finn and Jeff caught him again, while I got an arm lock on this one. I believe Kurt might have a broken arm and Blaine might have internal injuries. They both need immediate medical attention, officer. I think you should charge them with gay-bashing or at least assault causing bodily injury."
The officer nodded at his concise recap, shaking head in disbelief at the damage some mere kids could do. He put Karofsky and Azimo in the back of his car, and asked everyone else to stay on the lawn where they were, until somebody could get to them to take their statements. He could hear the clink of glass inside the house as people did a quick clean-up of illicit alcohol, but the underage drinking was the least of his worries right now.
The boy on the ground wasn't moving and the other looked pale as death, close to passing out too. He wanted them evac'ed immediately. The last thing in the world he needed was this stupidity to turn into a homicide. Geeze, this was gonna be a ton of paperwork, so he needed to be meticulous in his notes. The boy had said they were gay-bashed. Christ, they were probably asking for it, if they were prancing around out here for anyone to see. He sighed, and got out his notebook and patiently started with the closest boy, the level headed concise one, wondering if he was gay too, since he said they were friends. He asked him for his particulars, while the girl fussed over the two injured kids.
Within moments, a distant siren heralded an ambulance. The two paramedics quickly assessed the injured boys. Blaine was gently lifted to the gurney, since he was determined to be the more serious injury, and quickly wheeled to the back of the unit, and then the other attendant returned to Kurt. He told her in a tight whisper that his arm was broken and anxiously begged her to be extremely careful of it. She asked him some questions about how he felt, as she immobilized it with Velcro straps, more worried about his profusely bleeding head wound.
She immediately noted that he smelled of alcohol and asked if he'd had anything to drink. Her patient readily admitted he had consumed several drinks, though he seemed quite lucid. He merely shook his head at her in confusion, when she asked if he'd done any other drugs – not unusual for a head wound, really. When she gently felt down his humerous from his shoulder, he gasped and went rigid and begged her again to leave him alone. He was very pale and starting to quiver with shock, so she asked if he thought he could walk to the unit, before he passed out on her. He stood with her assistance, wobbling a bit as the world went faint and grey, and slowly walked to the ambulance, until she steered him to sit on the fold-down rumble seat beside his friend. If he could stay conscious and upright, they wouldn't have to wait for another unit to transport him.
"Blaine?" He immediately leaned over the other boy in concern, hissing with pain and biting his lip at the unintentional movement of his arm. "Is he alright?" He looked at her pleadingly, his eyes glowing blue in the mess of gore his face wore. She was glad to see her patient was still lucid, despite his appearance, as she readjusted the temporary sling over his shoulder to gently support his arm.
She shrugged in answer, not sure yet what was going on with the other boy. He appeared to be unresponsive. Her partner had unbuttoned his patient's blood soaked shirt, to reveal several prominent contusions in his abdomen, where he had probably been hit, one of them right over his spleen. Hmm. They needed to get back to County pronto. She glanced to her partner, saw his confirmation of her assessment and quickly buckled in her patient for transport. He could wait for further treatment until they got back to base.
"We're taking you to the hospital to be checked over. Do you have a phone? Maybe you could notify your parents, and his, if you know their number, to meet us there?" She helped him to get his phone out of his rather tight pocket, and watched him dial it with one hand while she slammed the back doors, got into the unit and flicked the siren on. Speed was essential if that kid was bleeding into his abdomen.
Kurt managed with no little difficulty to reach Burt. He disjointedly told him they were injured and on their way to the hospital. He managed to ask him to notify Blaine's parents too, and then the jostling of the rig over a bump made him go faint with pain again. The phone dropped into his lap, his whole body gone weak with the pain, with Burt's panicked squawking still distantly audible. He was beyond answering him just now, entirely focused on staying conscious to watch over Blaine.
The next half an hour was a jumbled confusion to Kurt. He dazedly watched the paramedic with Blaine taking readings and inserting needles with tubing into his arm, until they arrived at the hospital. Blaine was separated from him immediately, wheeled away while he was placed in a wheelchair and trundled away to a curtained area with a strange high- wheeled cot in it. He heard concerned voices and people rushing after Blaine and knew he was in serious condition. His arm throbbed painfully but he was quite willing to wait as long as necessary until Blaine was safe before he received attention.
The woman who had wheeled him to the curtained cubicle asked him if he could undress himself and get into the gown on the cot. He stared at her in frozen disbelief. "Please, go look after Blaine first. He's badly hurt and needs attention far more than I." He inhaled hard and braced himself to wait. He needed Blaine to be well again. He couldn't lose Blaine, or why was he even here?
The nurse reassured her patient. "Your friend is being cared for by our best team. Come on, I'll help you change." She gently pried Kurt's fingers off his arm in the sling, and heard him whimper, and push her away. "Oh…no. Please, don't touch me. I believe it's broken...I heard it snap, when my assailant twisted it." He protested weakly, pushing her hand away from him defensively.
"Honey, we have to get you out of your clothes and checked over by the doctor. You could be badly hurt too, and the shock of the pain in your arm is keeping you from feeling it." She opened a cabinet and took out a pair of bent scissors, and advanced upon him. Kurt really didn't want to be touched at all, and wanted even less to be undressed by a strange woman, but she'd had lots of experience dealing with reluctant patients and brooked no argument.
She kneeled to remove his shoes first, and gently undid the sling, but continued to supporthis arm with her free hand. Before he could react, she had slit the top of his sleeve from shoulder to wrist, exposing his arm with his bicep area bruised, swollen and purple. She quickly snipped through his collar and then replaced the sling before she eased his ruined lovely new shirt off his other arm, leaving him bare from the waist up. She tightened the sling again gently, making him go white with pain again, and whimper pitifully.
She gave a shake to the hideously coloured and patterned gown, put his good arm through it and tied the strings behind his neck, leaving his injured arm covered underneath it. She urged him to stand up and quickly reached under the gown to undo his button and lower the zipper, before she aimed him at the gurney.
"Back towards the bed now, Kurt." She murmured to him as she efficiently pulled them down and suddenly he was wearing only his socks and the gown. She raised the head of the bed, and helped him turn to stretch out by lifting his legs, before she covered him with a sheet. She watched as he closed his eyes and let out a sigh of relief, too dazed and shocked to object to almost anything she did. It was the quiet ones who were usually more seriously hurt. The noisy ones, you didn't have to worry about so much.
She busied herself bustling around him, wrapping a BP cuff around his good arm and inserting a temperature probe into his mouth and filling out his chart. She drew some blood quickly from his undamaged arm, but he still didn't react, barely aware of what was happening anymore. Kurt was praying groggily that all their resources would be directed toward Blaine so he would recover. He had no idea what was happening to him, blinking lights and beeping from the strange machinery everywhere confusing him, but he really wasn't worried about himself at all. He had read a little about hospital funding being cut, but he hoped Blaine was in capable hands in spite of the dire predictions of the article.
He floated in a fog of pain until he heard a familiar voice anxiously asking the attendant at the desk where his son was, and then Burt's very welcome familiar face appeared, holding back the curtain. Burt's flustered face looked more worried than he'd ever seen it.
"Kurt! Are you alright? Jesus, what the hell happened? You're covered in blood! Where's Blaine? What happened, for god's sake?" Kurt immediately reacted with panic about Blaine.
"Is Blaine alive? Is he alright? Do you know where they took him? Please Burt, find out where he is!"
Burt came nearer to the bed to take Kurt's hand, and saw it was clutching his gown, with white knuckles. Where was his right arm...? under the gown? He put his hand on his shoulder instead. "Shh. Calm down buddy. They won't know much yet about his condition. They're still checking him over, I think. What's with your arm?" He narrowed his eyes at the arm Kurt was cradling with his left hand, hidden beneath the gown.
The nurse interrupted, answering Burt's inquiry. "His arm is probably broken. He's supposed to go to x-ray, as soon as the porter comes to get him. Are you his father? If so, we'll need some information from you, as soon as you have a minute." She smiled at him reassuringly.
Burt nodded absently and put his hand on Kurt's hair, to smooth it back comfortingly, and encountered crusted blood. Most of his face and neck were covered in dried blood. "Can we wash off some of this blood? " He asked the nurse softly, the sight of the boy he had quickly learned to love covered in blood making him go cold with worry. Kurt winced when he quirked his brow at him in confusion. What blood? Was that why his head hurt so much? Had he…? Yes, he distinctly remembered a foot coming toward his head.
He raised his hand to feel his temple and the nurse caught it, stopping him. "Don't touch it please, Kurt. We'll wash it off a bit, but I don't want you to touch your head. We don't know yet what's going on there either, until we get the results of your tests." She opened a paper-wrapped package, squirted a liquid into a bowl, and put it on a wheeled table she positioned nearby. She wet some gauze pads in it and gently wiped off the worst of the blood from his face and his eyes, but avoided the contusion itself. Now he knew why his vision had been clouded; it had been obscured by his own blood.
The porter arrived then and briskly wheeled his entire cot away, the overhead lights making him squint in pain, as he rolled down the hallway, with only the squeak of a wheel to announce his passage until his arrival at x-ray. Burt wanted to come with him, but the nurse asked him to fill out some paperwork instead, concerning Kurt's medical coverage. It suddenly occurred to Kurt that this hospital stay was likely to be expensive. He began to fret over that too, worried that Burt might not have the money he would need.
His fretting was interrupted by the technicians shifting him to a cold hard table and brusquely shifting his arm into the various positions they wanted, while he moaned helplessly in pain. A huge machine whirred over several areas of his body, but he hardly noticed through the haze of pain. He was repositioned again and again, as they tortured him for what seemed hours but was really only minutes, until he was shifted back to his cot and rolled back to his previous cubicle, where Burt waited for him impatiently.
Burt smoothed his hair back again gently, comforting him as the pain in his arm receded a bit, and he closed his eyes, in an effort to subdue the pain in his head, which was threatening to burst open. Burt reflected that adopting Kurt had brought him both great happiness and great sorrow. Seeing Kurt hurt and frightened was possibly the worst feeling in the world. In such a short time he had developed an intensely protective feeling about this sweet sensitive boy…and his boyfriend. God, he hoped Blaine was gonna be okay too.
"Kurt, what happened? Can you tell me how you got hurt?" Burt asked him softly, his hand smoothing his hair again. Kurt licked his dry lips, and tried to gather his senses enough to answer. Burt glanced at the nurse, about to ask her for some water, but she guessed what he wanted and shook her head regretfully. He understood her and nodded back. Okay, yeah, not until they knew if his boy needed surgery.
Kurt's voice began, faint but clear and calm, "Jeff, Nick, Blaine and I went to a party that Mercedes' friends were having. We were all having a good time, dancing and stuff. Then Blaine and I…." Kurt's eyes squeezed shut harder, and winced, his memories causing him even more pain. "I guess we were making out...with other people around...watching us. Two guests took offence and...and…" his voice faded away, losing the thread of what he was saying.
He felt like he was floating high in the air, and opened his eyes to lean over a bit to check the distance to the floor, to see if he really was. It seemed a long way down. He shifted back and winced in pain again, starting to worry about falling out of the narrow bed and hurting his arm even worse. "Dad, I don't want to be hurt anymore." He mumbled faintly, his frightened voice sounding far younger than his years. The nurse paid no attention to his rambling, assuming Kurt was speaking to the man she believed was his father.
Burt's mouth hardened, guessing the rest of the story. He realized Kurt was losing his grip on reality if he was talking to his father. If his boys were beaten up because they were gay, he was gonna have those gorillas' asses on the line, he promised himself. The nurse came around to Burt's side of the bed then, softly asking him for access to her patient. She started a line in Kurt's left forearm to give him fluids to combat his shock and keep his blood pressure from getting too low. It would also save time, if they needed to operate on him.
A middle aged Asian woman pushed aside the curtain briskly as she entered the cubicle, her scrubs and dangling stethoscope not marking her as anyone different than the first nurse, until Kurt's attendant began to give her a run-down on her patient's condition. She listened to the nurse's voice absently as she checked Kurt's chest, and palpitated his abdomen, then felt down his arms and legs, and then his skull and neck, making him wince and flinch a bit. Kurt tolerated her examination until she touched his broken arm, when he whined high in pain. She left him alone after that, and he let out a sigh of relief. She asked Burt what had happened, and Burt told her, as much as he could. She flipped some papers on a clipboard, reading the results of his tests presumably, her face inscrutable.
"Can you give him something for the pain?" Burt asked her, concerned at Kurt's obvious discomfort.
"Not yet. I need the results of his blood tests first. He told the paramedics he had been drinking, and I need to know if he'd done any other drugs before I can give him anything. His arm is badly broken in a spiral fracture, so that will need to be set in surgery as soon as the Osteo specialist gets here. He also has a concussion, so we'll need to watch him tonight for a brain hemorrhage. Has he any other medical conditions I should know about, before we send him to be prepped for surgery?" Her tired voice inquired of Burt, completely flat of any inflection. Burt knew that Kurt was just another patient to her, but he was his boy.
"Kurt does not do drugs. He may have had a few drinks, but he isn't a heavy drinker either. I want him to have pain meds as soon as you can give them. He does not need to suffer any more than necessary. Do you know anything about his boyfriend yet? Is Blaine alright?"
She glanced up at him in surprise. "He's gay?" Burt nodded confirmation.
"That would be the sort of thing I need to know, in case he's HIV positive. We're testing for that too, but the results can take a while." She said drily, making a starred notation at the top of Kurt's chart like he was a Typhoid carrier, or something.
"Blaine and he have barely done any more than kiss, so far. They're barely seventeen and neither of 'em is promiscuous. I don't think you need to worry about HIV." Burt said in exasperation, maybe bending the truth a titch, but he was confident that the doctor was overreacting.
She defended herself, cynically. "You would be surprised what teenagers can be up to without their parent's knowledge, Mr. Hummel. Very few of them inform their parents they are sexually active. The tests are standard procedure for anyone over twelve, in any case. His, ah…boyfriend is still in surgery. I can't tell you any more than that. I will order a small dose of pain medication for him, until we know what else he has on board." She left the room abruptly, making Burt wonder if he'd made an enemy. He didn't want Kurt to suffer because Burt had implied she was uptight about gay boys. Maybe he had overreacted a bit too, defensive about the boys he was very fond of.
Burt waited with Kurt until the porter came to retrieve Kurt again to take him to surgery, then trailed along beside him, until the porter showed him where to wait. He watched the cot rolling away from him, taking an increasingly groggy Kurt away, and felt his heart heavy with worry. He told himself Kurt would be fine. He was in the best place he could be and they would take excellent care of his son…his son! God, how could he ever have guessed how much that boy would mean to him, in such a short time.
He went to the waiting room and found a chair, knowing he was in for a long wait. There was another couple there, waiting anxiously too. It took him a few seconds, but the woman's hair was a dead give-away, just like Blaine's black curls. "Excuse me. Are you Blaine's parents? Have you heard anything about how he is? God, he's gotta be alright. Both of them gotta be alright." Burt said fervently, sounding like the prayer it was.
Ed looked up at the man dressed haphazardly in work pants, a faded green t-shirt with a flannel shirt mis-buttoned over it and wearing bedroom slippers. "You have got to be Burt Hummel. I'm Ed Anderson and this is my wife, Elianna. I'm pleased to….no. No, I'm not! It's good to meet you, Burt, but I'm sorry it was like this. We haven't heard anything yet about Blaine's condition, other than their initial diagnosis. They think he has abdominal bleeding from a splenetic fracture, whatever that means. How is Kurt doing?"
He sounded to Burt like he really wanted to know, like he cared about Kurt's condition. His wife had been crying, but she sat up and sniffed softly, waiting anxiously for Burt's reply too. Burt half smiled at their obvious concern. Of course Blaine's parents were decent people. A sweet kid like Blaine didn't come from nowhere. "He's got a badly broken right arm and a concussion they want to keep an eye on. He's in surgery now too, getting his arm set. Blaine has gotta be okay too. I'm kinda fond of that boy, and Kurt is pretty much crazy about him." He smiled at them ruefully. If you could believe those two boys, these people would one day be Kurt's in-laws. And he would be Blaine's father in law. He smiled, thinking about his boys getting married. He could see it happening one day, no problem.
Elianna smiled at Burt, though her eyes still retained the sadness and worry. "Thank you. We're rather fond of Kurt too. He's such a sweet boy, and I wouldn't have chosen anyone else for Blaine's first boyfriend." Burt smiled back at her, wondering if they had told Blaine's parents they believed they were star crossed lovers, and meant to spend their lives together.
The hours passed slowly, the clock crawling from one thirty, to two, two thirty and then three o'clock, while they took turns pacing and flipping through ancient magazines . It was ten to four when a nurse came in to say Kurt was out of recovery and being sent to his room, and asked if Burt wanted to follow her there. He leapt up to follow her and then paused to say to Blaine's parents. "Give me a call and let me know how Blaine is doing. I'm sure Kurt is going to want to know first thing when he wakes up. This isn't over yet. We are gonna prosecute those two gay-bashers to the full extent of the law, if it's the last thing I do. Nobody beats on a Hummel or his boyfriend." He spoke in a low and very serious voice, then turned to follow the nurse.
Ed nodded silently, somewhat taken aback at the resolute tone of Burt's voice. The man looked amiable and harmless, but his son had been attacked and now his attackers would pay. Ed glanced at his wife, in full accord with Burt's intentions. Elianna took his hand, thinking only about when she would see her son again. Vengeance could wait until Blaine was safe and well, as far as she was concerned.
It was nearly another hour before a tired-looking nurse came to get the Andersons. Blaine was in intensive care now, they were told, still unconscious, and still very, very pale when they were allowed in to see him. The surgeon stopped by to check on him, and told them he had saved Blaine's spleen, though it had been a close call. There had been a number of slow leakages from numerous cracks caused by the impacts of the blows, and it had taken a while to stop them all, but unless something sprang a leak in the first twelve hours, he should recover well enough after that. He was young and healthy, he said lightly, so he would remain in ICU for the next day, in hospital for several more days, and when he was recovered enough, would transition home, with possibly a blood transfusion or two in outpatient if his counts were slow to rise. They nodded their understanding, intensely grateful to have their son back with a hopeful prognosis.
The nurse murmured after the surgeon left that Blaine would remain unconscious for several more hours, so if they wanted to go home and get some rest, they could return later and his team would take excellent care of him in the meanwhile. Ed had to talk Elianna into it, but she finally left Blaine there sleeping, his monitors beeping faithfully, after she kissed him goodbye. Ed awkwardly patted his son's pale hand for a moment, too self-conscious to kiss him while his wife and the nurses watched, but very, very grateful he would be alright. At the last moment, he bent and left a quick kiss on his cheek, the first for about ten years, then left quickly, Ellie's hand tucked into his.
Kurt woke up briefly in the darkened room he'd been assigned, groggily seeing Burt slumped beside his bed, dozing fitfully as he waited for him to regain consciousness. Kurt smiled at him, comforted by his presence, though his arm throbbed agonizingly in its heavy wet cast. It took a few seconds for the reason for him being there to sink in. Blaine!
He shifted, trying to sit up, and let out a yelp of pain. Burt snuffled and sat up suddenly, taking his good left hand in his. "Kurt! How are ya buddy?" He stood and smiled down into Kurt's eyes, the worry in them plain to see. Kurt tried and failed to answer, his throat dry as dust. Burt immediately retrieved a water cup with a straw and leaned it into Kurt's mouth. He sucked eagerly, the lukewarm water tasting better than anything he'd had for weeks, rehydrating his completely parched throat. Burt made him take a break after a bit, smoothing his hair back again with a loving smile. He must look a disaster, but he didn't care.
"Easy buddy. It ain't going anywhere. I'll give you some more soon. Just take a break for a second and take stock. How are you feeling?" He sat in the chair again, waiting to hear Kurt's answer, but he left his hand resting on Kurt's good arm, as if he had to keep hold of him.
"Blaine, how is Blaine? Do you know if he's all right?" Kurt whispered anxiously, his voice hoarse. Burt shrugged helplessly. He hadn't heard anything from the Andersons yet, but he consoled Kurt that he was operating under the assumption that no news is good news.
'I…guess you would have heard if he'd …." Kurt closed his eyes and inhaled hard, refusing to even contemplate it, then answered his question listlessly. "I feel sort of achy all over. My head hurts where I'm lying on it, and my jaw pains me something awful. My arm…my arm feels sort of…Burt! It's still there, isn't it? They didn't cut it off?" Kurt sounded completely panicked, remembering a neighbour who had fallen from his roof and broken his arm in several places, the bones jutting through his skin. The barber surgeon took it off at the shoulder, to prevent the massive infection that would have resulted and he had survived, wearing his sleeve pinned up thereafter. Kurt's arm seemed to weigh a hundred pounds and it hurt like the dickens, but Mr. Mallory said his amputated arm often hurt too, even though it was gone.
"Easy buddy, take it easy. Yes, your arm is still there. They set the break in surgery. The surgeon tells me you now have six screws and a platinum plate in there, so you're gonna set off the airport scanners if you ever fly, but he says you should have a complete recovery in a couple months. Geeze, they used to cut off broken arms? Man, I'm glad you're here now." Burt patted him comfortingly and then gave him another drink. Kurt sighed gratefully and closed his eyes to rest for a minute. The next time he opened them, it was late morning, and Burt was gone. The poor man must be exhausted, after staying up all night worrying about him.
Kurt couldn't help wishing he was there anyway, but told himself sternly to stop being such a child. He would doubtless return when he could. He had a business to run, for heaven's sake. It was only then that he noticed a boy in the bed across from his, playing with an electronic device. He appeared to be about twelve, and had a shock of unruly red hair. Kurt watched him silently until he couldn't wait any longer. His kidneys demanded that he visit the bathroom, and they would brook no further delay.
"Excuse me. Would you mind telling me where the bathroom is located? I need to make a visit to the facilities." The boy paused his game and grinned at him.
"Just push your bell, dude. You just got out of surgery a few hours ago, so I'd bet you aren't going anywhere, but they will give you a hand to go." Kurt frowned, wondering what he might mean, but looked over his head for a bell anyway. There was nothing similar to a bell in his view, silver, brass, or cast. The boy chuckled, then wriggled out of his bed, making a quick jump to the floor and walked toward his bed. He was quite short, but seemed very amiable, in Kurt's opinion.
"Here, this is it. Press the button and a bell rings at the desk, to call them here." He explained the operation of the bell patiently to Kurt and smiled at him, as he placed the cord in Kurt's left hand. "I'm Danny. I heard your dad call you Kurt when he talked to you this morning, right?" He hopped up on the bottom of Kurt's bed, happy to keep him company until the nurse came.
"That's correct. Kurt Hummel, at your service, Danny. Thank you for your assistance. You have no idea how much my bladder appreciates it." They smiled at each other for a minute while Kurt counted the minutes. Where were the porters? He had to go! He was thirsty again and his arm ached, but not enough to distract him from his urgent need to urinate.
"I can get you a can, if you really gotta pee bad." Danny offered observantly. He was an old hand at hospitals and hated having to pee in a can, but sometimes the nurses were busy and took too long to wait for them. Kurt had a desperate look about him that told him he couldn't wait any longer.
"Oh please, yes." Kurt gasped, gritting his teeth, ready to try any alternative. Danny chuckled again and went to their shared bathroom, returning with a blue jug with a narrow neck. Kurt blinked at it and wondered how he would manage with one hand. His gaze raised to his new friend pleadingly and Danny sighed and rolled his eyes. He peeled back the sheet and raised Kurt's gown, averting his eyes from the view on offer. Kurt positioned the can and gave a long sigh, as relief flowed freely. He carefully positioned the full jug so it wouldn't tip and tugged his gown down again, restoring his modesty.
"Thank you. I believe you have saved me from a mortifying fate usually suffered by infants of much younger years. I am much obliged to you sir." Danny looked perplexed and replaced the sheet.
"Geeze, you talk funny, like in an old movie. No sweat, man. Gotta help out a fellow prisoner, don't I?" He hopped back up on the foot of the bed, and casually asked Kurt how he broke his arm. Kurt was rescued from having to explain he'd been attacked by people who hated him when the nurse finally arrived, to find the problem had been solved by her favorite patient. She dumped Kurt's jug, leaving it in handy reach of Kurt's functional arm, for further emergencies.
"Thank you, big guy, for helping Kurt. Now get back to your own bed again. You may have been here long enough to run the place, but you are not allowed on other patient's beds and you know it. Scoot, sweetie." She watched Danny obediently hop back into his own bed, knowing full well he would be out of it again as soon as she left the room.
"And how are you doing today, Kurt?" She asked him with a smile, straightening his covers, disarranged by the recent maneuver.
"I'm as well as can be expected, I should say. Do you know how Blaine is doing? I really would appreciate a report on his condition." Kurt asked the nurse, pleading with his eyes, as she bustled around the room, refilling his water, checking his IV and placing a tray with several cups on the table before she rolled it in front of him.
"Who is Blaine? A friend of yours? I don't think we have anyone of that name on this floor. Do you know if he had surgery too? He could be on another floor, medicine or …" her voice trailed away as other less desirable options occurred to her. "Was Kurt in the same accident as you were, Kurt?" She asked lightly, trying to get some information without worrying her patient unduly.
"I was not in an accident, madam. Blaine and I were grievously assaulted last night, so of course I am most concerned about his condition. Is there anyone who can tell me how he is?" Kurt asked, before she abruptly advanced on him and asked him to open his mouth wide. He obeyed her request, hoping his cooperation would ensure hers and found a plastic probe had been inserted into his mouth. She took his blood pressure, as he watched in growing concern at the inflation of the cuff cutting off his circulation. The nurse, her badge informing him her name was Shelly, remained unconcerned and uncooperative, after she removed the probe from his mouth, and the cuff from his arm. She asked him to try some of his lunch, then gave him a final pat on the leg and disappeared.
"You and your buddy got beat up?" Danny asked from his bed, his voice sounding thunderstruck. "I thought you were in a car accident or something. Your face is a Technicolor mess, man. Why would somebody want to…were you mugged or something?"
Kurt looked at the innocent blue eyes of the boy and was reluctant to tell him what a rotten world it could be for people like him. He very probably had never been the unfortunate recipient of someone's unreasonable hate, for no reason he had any control over. Kurt had read about gay men being beaten and even killed by assailants in gay-bashings but never had he considered that it might happen to Blaine and him, in today's sleepy small-town Lima. On reconsideration, he'd not have been surprised to have suffered this fate in his Lima, had they guessed his orientation. He muttered to Danny that he'd rather not talk about it, staring into the near distance instead. Danny got the message, and went back to playing with his game.
Kurt managed to take a long drink of his water on his own, without soaking himself and then went back to sleep, hoping when he woke someone would tell him how his boyfriend was. Or he would be far less cooperative, when next asked to open up his mouth. If necessary, he would track Blaine down and discover his condition himself, he resolved, wondering in retrospect, if he could even stand up unassisted.
His dearest wish was granted. When he woke up the next time, Elianna Anderson was at his bedside. He smiled at her gratefully, very ,very glad to see her. "Blaine?" He asked hopefully, only one subject on his mind.
"Blaine is still recovering in Intensive Care right now, but they said if nothing changes they will move him up to this floor later today. They repaired several tears in his spleen, so he needed some blood transfusions from the bleeding, but the doctor says he should be discharged in about a week. How are you feeling Kurt?" She put her hand on his free arm, currently resting on his chest.
He closed his eyes in relief. Oh thank god! Blaine would recover. He wished he could reach her, to hug her, but the cast was still too weighty to move. He settled for a thankful smile. "I am so very appreciative that you came to tell me of his condition. No one would give me any information about him and I've been frantic with worry. I am doing well enough, I suppose. My arm hurts, and my head still aches but I will recover, I'm told."
Elianna smiled, charmed at Kurt's odd manner of speaking, sounding so formal. She fleetingly wondered what his parents were like, and was sad she would never know them. She glanced at his apparently untouched lunch tray, and her motherly instincts took over. "You are never getting out of here if you won't eat, young man. How about some pudding, or some juice?" She picked through the items on the tray, and discovered the milk was warm from sitting, since it was now four in the afternoon. Kurt made a face in response, completely uninterested in food. She gave him her best Mom glare and was pleased to see it worked on him too.
"Perhaps some juice then." Kurt conceded to appease her. She stuck a straw through the obstinate foil (How was a boy with one working hand supposed to get into this thing?) and held it for him, admiring his long eyelashes as he drank. He really was a cutie, when he looked up at you with those lovely eyes, even with a bruised and battered face. It was no wonder Blaine was crazy about him, with his sweet manners and loving heart. She could easily learn to love this boy, she suddenly realized. She dabbed unnecessarily at Kurt's mouth with a napkin, when he finished the lukewarm fruit punch, enjoying pampering him. He blushed at her attentions, but really didn't mind her staying. He liked Blaine's mother quite a bit. She was elegant, and thoughtful, and sometimes surprised him, just as Blaine did. The thought made him smile at her, and they shared a moment of peaceful harmony.
"Is there anything I can bring you to pass the time? Some books or music or a game?" She motioned to Danny, who was playing his electronic game again, politely ignoring them in the enforced proximity they shared.
"I don't think I can manage doing very much just yet, since I seem to fall asleep every time I close my eyes, but thank you for your kindness, in any case. I hope I may be allowed to visit Blaine when he returns home?" He looked up at her imploringly. It only now occurred to him that the Andersons might resent him, as the cause of their son being beaten up. If he had kept his libido under better control, their assailants would probably not have attacked them at all. A wave of guilt flooded over him.
"Of course you can come see him." She chuckled. "As if wild horses could keep you two away from each other. You are always welcome in our home, Kurt, I hope you know." She patted his arm comfortingly, as he exhaled a sigh of relief. Blaine's parents appeared to not harbour a grudge against him at all, but perhaps they were not yet aware of the circumstances of the attack. When it all came out, they might change their minds.
His anxiety was interrupted when Burt came into the room, holding flowers and a plastic grocery bag, smiling widely when he found Kurt awake. "Hey, buddy. You're awake! Feeling better now, are you? Hey, Mrs. Anderson. Its nice to see you too. How is Blaine today?" Kurt grinned at hearing his adoptive father asking about Blaine. He really liked his boyfriend too, it was clear to tell.
"He's steadily improving they tell me, though he isn't really conscious yet. He just mumbles and mutters occasionally, but they have him pretty doped up. They are going to reduce his meds this afternoon so I'm hoping he'll be more alert tonight. You're welcome to stop by and see him if you want. I can leave your name on the list of people allowed into Intensive Care, and give you the access code. Once they move him upstairs, he'll be fair game for all the kids who keep calling. I had no idea he had so many friends. The phone has been ringing all day, with people asking about him."
She laughed musically, making Kurt wonder what her singing voice sounded like. Is that where Blaine got his talent? Somehow, he couldn't imagine Ed singing. Kurt's father couldn't carry a tune in a bucket, his mother used to tease him, so there was no doubt where his talent came from. They talked for a bit, while Kurt tried to stifle a yawn. Burt eyed him, deciding this visit was going to have to end soon. He didn't want Kurt overtired. He seemed much more relaxed than he had earlier, no doubt because he had been reassured about Blaine's recovery.
"What lovely flowers! Shall I see if I can find a vase?" Elianna offered. Burt gave her the flowers gratefully, while he opened his bag of goodies to show Kurt. He'd brought a selection of magazines from Kurt's room, the book he'd been reading, his phone charger and earbuds, and a selection of fruit cups. Kurt was pleased at Burt's thoughtfulness but couldn't suppress another yawn. Elianna took the hint and left within a few minutes, after arranging the missed bouquet of spring flowers. Burt was about to leave too, when the abandoned lunch tray was exchanged for his supper tray.
Burt checked it out, grimacing at it sympathetically. Kurt snorted in amusement, agreeing wholeheartedly with his appraisal, though to be truthful, it could be ambrosia and he wouldn't want to eat it. "There's some beef soup here, Kurt. How about we take a stab at that?" Burt proposed brightly, trying to put as good a face on it as he could. Kurt nodded with resignation. He needed to keep up his strength so he could look after Blaine when he was home again.
He let Burt feed him, swallowing the nearly tasteless broth and limp overcooked vegetables obediently. He ate the applesauce next, and drank the orange juice and the milk. After that, he was obliged to ask for Burt's assistance with the jug again, and then subsided sleepily back into his pillow. Burt tucked him in, and then said the hell with it, to himself and kissed him on the forehead. Kurt blinked, and smiled contentedly, as he drifted away again.